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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749011">Heart Of The Darkness</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miaschyx/pseuds/Miaschyx'>Miaschyx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Krii7y Haven Writing [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Banana Bus Squad, Outlast (Video Games)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>:), Blood and Violence, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mutilation, Non-Professional Medical Aid, Panic Kisses, Secret Santa, all u need to know is its in a fucking weird mental asylum, its creepy, read this at night with the lights out for full effect, some Weird fucked up family ideology, you dont have to have played outlast to read this</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:22:36</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,135</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29749011</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miaschyx/pseuds/Miaschyx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>It’s only when John turns around, looking as though he’d been in a dozen fights and is <em>still</em> ready for another, that Jaren feels hot tears spill over reddened cheeks.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ <em>sorry!</em> Are you okay? I—No, you’re <em>not</em> okay.”</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>John | KryozGaming/Jaren | SMii7Y</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Krii7y Haven Writing [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2187012</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Krii7y Haven Writing</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Heart Of The Darkness</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">
      <li>For <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikki_The_Duck/gifts">Nikki_The_Duck</a>.</li>



    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>
  <i>Here we are in the heart of the darkness<br/>You feel your body shake<br/>Fear like a phantom waits</i>
</p><hr/>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>‘I’ll be back.’</em>
</p><p>Three simple words keep Jaren quiet. They repeat like a broken record, a mantra that increases with every blood-curdling scream and fresh wave of iron-laden air that floods the damp room. He’ll return once the exit is clear. Shaky hands flatten against rusted metal, taking comfort in the cool chill as he peers into the gloomy area, straining to see human-shaped demons in the shadows.</p><p>“Darling!” a sultry voice crows from the right, singing sweet lullabies.</p><p>
  <em>‘No, fuck, not <strong>him.</strong>’</em>
</p><p>Every muscle tightens, lungs clenched and breath held, but frantic eyes refuse to close. Pleading cries respond to unnervingly saccharine words. A dull thump preludes a sobbing groan, hoarse and crying with desperation as nails scrabble against moldy tiles.</p><p>“What did I say about keeping your stress levels down? No child can be borne like this.”</p><p>The stomach-churning memory of mangled bodies cut apart and sewn together, a mockery of a carrying woman, has Jaren silently gagging, a palm covering his mouth and nails cutting into his cheek.</p><p>They should <em>never</em> have come here. ‘Abandoned’ mental asylum, his ass! No power doesn’t mean the crazies inside are gone.</p><p>“No, no, no, please, <em>please!</em>”</p><p>“I <em>warned</em> you and you didn’t <em>listen!</em>”</p><p>A wet squelch spills into the air, Jaren choking at the possibilities. His eyes grow wet, face turned against his torn and muddied sleeve.</p><p>“Oh?” the man purrs, a childish laugh bubbling beneath. Jaren freezes, swallowing and peering between the metal slits of the locker. “Have my followers… brought me another bride?”</p><p>He’s a deer in headlights, a hare hypnotized by a stoat, a hen frozen in fear of a fox. Fingers twitch, useless when his arms can’t even push the door open.</p><p>He has no chance when a body slams against the front, jostling him within. Manic eyes stare back at him, lips pulled into a grin. Can’t breathe, can’t scream, can’t move.</p><p>“There you are, dear! The perfect gift after… a <em>terrible</em> tragedy.” Yeah, <em>tragedy.</em> He can only imagine the leftovers, the body slit and covered in gore and blood, still warm. Something metal tracks across the front of the locker. “But don’t worry, I’ll fix you up, make your body a welcoming vessel.”</p><p>Voice cracking, he lets out a shaky, “<em>Fuck</em> you.” A crazed laugh echoes through the grotesque room, head thrown back as he smacks the rusty locker. Barely illuminated, he looks like a dirtied man from the mall, covered in blood and grime, bowtie falling off. Palms sweating, Jaren smacks his hands against the door, only for the rattle of metal to trap him within. “Let me <em>out!</em>”</p><p>“Nooo, no, <em>no,</em> my love, I can’t let you out in this state, you’ll only hurt yourself!” Blood pounds within his ears, rushing like a torrent, an uncontrollable stream. Jaren slams his fist harder against the metal, the growl in his throat fading into a desperate whine.</p><p>He’s not getting out of here alive.</p><p>A blade scrapes across the locker, barely glistening in the light shining through the window. Jaren shrinks away, knees buckling, ducking down from the slits in the door. He’d rather <em>not</em> have a scalpel in the eye.</p><p>“Now, I don’t want to ruin your perfect body,” he begins, voice dropping with warning, “but I <em>will</em> if you keep fighting me.”</p><p>Tongue dead weight, Jaren swallows and scrunches his eyes shut. <em>‘Where <strong>is</strong> he?’</em></p><p>“Why would I fight you?”</p><p>A coo spills forth, hair standing on end and spine rigid. “Much better, sweetheart,” he hums, taking a step backwards. Metal scrapes again on the locker, hinges squealing and revealing the crazed man’s horrifying appearance. It takes every single ounce of self-restraint to stop from running, hands shaking and gaze darting, searching for an escape route. “Look at you, the perfect vessel, don’t you think?”</p><p>Jaren’s stomach twists over itself, tightening up like a knotted rope. A shake to every word, he whispers, “Okay.” His stare lingers on the blade in the other’s raw-knuckled grasp, the weapon raising when he takes a shaky step forth.</p><p>“You want this, don’t you? Want to become beautiful, to pave the way for our loving family.”</p><p><em>‘No,’</em> he thinks, <em>‘I want to <strong>leave</strong> with <strong>John.</strong>’</em></p><p>He refuses to let this psycho know of the other’s presence. Fingers crossing behind his back, Jaren hopes to at least have his body recovered before it’s mutilated beyond recognition like the corpses of earlier.</p><p>“Okay…”</p><p>The hand against his elbow has him jumping, strung taught and on edge. “Come, my love, I’ll show you the way, the truth…”</p><p>Movement catches his eye, moonlight glistening against silver.</p><p>Jaren snaps his gaze away, movements slow and steady, gaze tracked onto the blade. He needs to get the weapon away, get the scalpel out of his white-knuckled grasp, so John has a winning chance. They won’t get out of this alive if this fucking <em>maniac </em>still has his weapon.</p><p>He stumbles.</p><p>The man’s face twists into a grimace and he lunges.</p><p>Jaren yelps and finds himself slammed backwards against the wall. His head pulses, skull smacking against the tiles as metal stings at his throat.</p><p>“Wait!”</p><p>“You scared me, darling, you shouldn’t try to escape like that,” he pants, leaning in closer. Nostrils flared, dark eyes soak in his appearance, leaning closer. His stench alone has Jaren swallowing bile, flinching at the hand caressing his cheek. Shaky hands grab hold of the man’s elbow, struggling to keep him at bay, to squirm his way to freedom. The blade digs into his throat, bringing him to a halt as a strangled cry spills forth. “Maybe it’d be better if I just cut out your voice box. Wives are supposed to be seen, not heard.”</p><p>Frantic, Jaren rushes to say, “I’ll be quiet, I’ll be quiet, please, I promise.”</p><p>There’s a flicker of movement over the man’s shoulder.</p><p>Jaren looks for a moment too long.</p><p>“What—”</p><p>The man twists in time for a grazed elbow to slam into his unsightly face, flinging him aside.</p><p>Jaren jumps away, grabbing his own throat, feeling a thin line of blood beneath his palm.</p><p>The stumbling form snaps his head up, scowling and frothing with broiling hatred. “How <em>dare</em> you—”</p><p>“How dare <em>me?</em>” John spits, backing up and glancing over a shoulder at Jaren. Upon realizing the other isn’t in <em>immediate </em>danger, he glares at the crazy man and huffs, “Stay the fuck <em>away</em> from him!”</p><p>“You can’t come between us!” he shouts, posture menacing and looming. The blade in his hand draws attention like a magnet, dragging their eyes towards it as he flicks the weapon within gnarled fingers.</p><p>Jaren flinches when the man steps closer, hip bumping into a table laden with jars of intestines. A whimper slips out, capturing both of their attention for a split second.</p><p>John positions himself between them, shoulders hunched and fingers clenched, shielding Jaren. The blade raises. John flinches, balancing on the balls of his feet, teeth clenched and eyes narrowed.</p><p>“No, no, <em>nothing</em> is as strong as… as the <em>bond</em> we form—”</p><p>A boot slams into the man’s shin, dragging a shriek from raw, bloodied lips. Jaren’s head whips to the side, spotting a door and quickly running towards it. He freezes in the crooked doorframe, looking back, spotting John grappling with the bedraggled man, mouth pulled back into a sneer. The silver scalpel wavers, tip nicking at John’s clothing, held back like a snarling dog.</p><p>No warning, the man yanks himself away, pulling his arm free, only to slam the blade downwards.</p><p>A scream tears free of Jaren’s hoarse throat, the metal sinking into John’s arm, drinking rich scarlet blood.</p><p>Wild eyes scan the room, flicking between the garishly cut body on his right to the mess of broken furniture to his left.</p><p>Jaren latches onto a metal rod, breath rapid and uneven, yanking it free from the wooden debris.</p><p>No hesitation, he runs closer and swings, a sickening <em>crunch</em> filling the air as it connects with the man’s skull. He tumbles to the side, leaving John scrambling free. When he freezes up again, staring at the blood already dripping from the damage he’d caused, John takes the weapon from him and wastes no time in bringing it down directly on the deranged man’s neck.</p><p>He falls to the ground and goes limp. Air slides free from rattling lungs as haunted eyes grow dull.</p><p>
  <em>‘Oh god.’</em>
</p><p>Jaren hiccups, eyes locking onto John, on the fucking <em>handle</em> still embedded in his bicep. Tears well within green-blue eyes, brows furrowed and lips parted. “Your arm,” he gasps, stepping closer, hands raising, only to freeze when he realizes he doesn’t know what to do.</p><p>A yell reverberates through the dusty air, a low growl following, filled with hunger and desperation.</p><p>John grabs him by the elbow, already yanking him away. It doesn’t matter <em>where</em> they’re going, as long as John’s with him, they’ll be fine.</p><p>They’re red-faced and panting by the time the shouting dies down, inaudible. John shoves them both into a shadowed room and slams the rattling door shut. A metal cabinet serves as the perfect blockade, stopping any unwanted visitors from entering their makeshift safe room.</p><p>It’s only when John turns around, looking as though he’d been in a dozen fights and is <em>still</em> ready for another, that Jaren feels hot tears spill over reddened cheeks.</p><p>“I’m sorry, I’m so fuckin’ <em>sorry,</em>” he whines, stepping closer and staring through bleary eyes at the weapon still in John’s arm. “Are you okay? I—No, you’re <em>not </em>okay.” Every inch of John is tensed, frozen as he keeps glancing at the door, breathing through his nose. He flinches at the hand on his shoulder, finally meeting Jaren’s watery stare. He’s still ready for a battle, on edge, antsy to keep them both safe. “<em>Fuck,</em> John, your <em>arm,</em> oh god…”</p><p>“It’s fine,” he grits out, still standing there with a doctor’s scalpel sticking out of his sleeve, careless of the blood soaking his shirt. Jaren’s instincts are <em>screaming</em> to run, to get away, John’s a <em>threat.</em> But every other part of him is desperate to help, to ease his pain, make him better, and repay his kindness.</p><p>Jaren takes hold of his good arm, leading him towards the unsteady table against the wall. “Let’s just… fix it up, yeah? Make it better. We can fix this—” A loud <em>crash</em> from outside has John jolting, pushing himself to his feet, despite Jaren’s attempts to get him seated. “It’s fine, they can’t get in, let me—”</p><p>“They’re close—”</p><p>“Don’t <em>worry</em> about them—”</p><p>“How can I <em>not</em> worry when they’re—”</p><p>“You’re <em>bleeding!</em>”</p><p>“I can make more blood.”</p><p>Fingers snatch hold of greasy hair, snapping John’s gaze towards him for long enough that he can press a desperate kiss against his bloodied mouth. The wildness in his eyes fades, returning to his familiar stare.</p><p>Jaren relaxes his hold, eyes flickering to the side.</p><p>“You can’t make another <em>you,</em>” he counters.</p><p>John licks his lips. “What was <em>that </em>for?”</p><p>Jaren backs up, mouth twisting to the side, failing to hide his embarrassment. “You weren’t listening and I—” He swallows. “I’m scared we won’t get out of here and I just—I just wanted to, just once, sorry, I shouldn’t have…” The silence that ensues has Jaren’s fingers itching, staring at the blade which, now that he looks at, isn’t all <em>that</em> deeply embedded into John’s arm. Swallowing, he clears his throat and says, “Let’s get this—”</p><p>“Better be more than just once.”</p><p>A frown embeds itself on Jaren’s face, blinking at John. He’s met with surprising determination.</p><p>He doesn’t even ask before John’s explaining, “We <em>are</em> getting out of here. That better not just have been a once off haha joke.” Jaren doesn’t have a response to that, letting slip a confused little noise followed by an awkward laugh. When he says nothing else, John asks, “You gettin’ this knife outta me or what?”</p><p>“Wh—Yes! Yeah, hold on, I…” Jaren fumbles for a moment before shedding his overshirt, figuring it’s cleaner than anything in this place. “Can you—” John grabs hold of the scalpel and yanks it out, a grunt and hiss following. Crimson spurts out, seeping quickly. Jaren gasps and hurries to wrap the fabric around the wound to stop the bleeding. “<em>Fucks’</em> sake, John.”</p><p>A bloodied hand against his chin has Jaren freezing, allowing his head to be tilted upwards until he can meet the other’s gaze. “We’re gonna get out of here,” he states firmly. His hold shifts, resting against the side of Jaren’s face. Warm concern and conviction replace the earlier rage. “We <em>will,</em> I <em>promise.</em>”</p><p>The knot of unease wrapped vice-like around Jaren’s heart unwinds, loosened by trust and belief. On his own, no, he wouldn’t believe that, but with John here…</p><p>“I know we will.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p><i>Here we are in the heart of the darkness<br/>Hold fast, we must be brave<br/>In the heart of the darkness</i><br/>{<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YV7NNzVPDYA">x</a>}</p><hr/><p>This was actually written as a Secret Santa for Nikki in the Krii7y Haven server! <a href="https://discord.gg/j35ZSHZ">You wanna join?</a></p></blockquote></div></div>
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